Artemis Lost

She comes in through my window, dripping
ambrosia and moonlight. I’m feigning sleep,
she draws me out with jasmine scented
kisses. She slips from innocence,
denim and satin, to writhe
down my spine as a shiver.
Promises born in salt and fire
roll with the swell of her breast,
die with the plea turned to ash
on my tongue, with the band
returned to her finger.
Nocking an arrow she raises,
releases; how deeply
her false overture pierces,
I never will,
never will
tell.

Wow amazing. Artemis arriving through the window such art in her seduction, such lust; yet trickery behind her actions.”her dark overture” hurts “pierces” And perhaps, in the end your speaker is ashamed, or perhaps, so angry he was tricked, he will never speak of it. Beautiful Ryan.

No–don’t associate me with that woman–arrgghh! How am I? Hmmm…could be better, will be better… thanks so much for asking 🙂 How are you and the boys doing? I’ve not forgotten your phrase about them, that they “drink time like lemonade”…that is another wowza bit; such a poetic dad, I hope they appreciate that aspect of you…as well as many others 🙂

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Ryan Stone writes after midnight. His short fiction and poetry have appeared in publications including Eunoia Review, The Drabble, Algebra of Owls and Silver Birch Press and won prizes in a number of competitions at venues including Grindstone, Writer Advice, Goodreads, Writers’ Forum Magazine and Poetry Nook. He lives in Melbourne, Australia.